Enslaved: Break Out
by Telemachus Prime
Summary: Trip and Monkey have finally defeated Pyramid, only to find that their journey west has just begun.
1. Chapter I

Disclaimer: The author of the fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and that all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creators Ninja Theory and Namco Bandai Games.

I

"Did I do the right thing?" asked Trip, looking to Monkey in search of answers.

It was partly impetus that compelled Trip to sever the chords from Pyramid's back, as he was splayed dead over a computerized console. Dark sludge flowed from the orifices on his partly cybernetic back, pooling and spreading onto the floor. Pyramid's death signaled the untimely shut down of the entire facility that housed thousands of people enslaved by the memories of this single man. They were memories from the old world that served as a mirage in a desolate land of brutal mechs. Now those memories were gone, no better than dust returning to the earth.

While impetus was partly what compelled Trip to destroy Pyramid and his lucid memories, there was something else that drove her to do what she did. It first emerged with the death of her father, and then culminated to the noble but doleful sacrifice of Pigsy. Finally, it had reached its boiling point when Monkey decided to take Pyramid's mask. She had always seen Monkey as a strong man, not for his sheer strength and command in combat, but by his unstoppable will to persevere through dire circumstances. So when Monkey put on that damnable mask, Trip saw all his colossal countenance collapse as Pyramid's dream world threatened to steal him away from her. Her father, her friend Pigsy, and what could have been Monkey, were like constellations fading from the sky being drawn into a vacuum, pulling her along with them.

Trip wanted to protect Monkey. That was all there was to it.

But when she looked into Monkey's eyes, looking answers to her question, she saw something in those depths that unsettled her. Even when Monkey lifted her chin up reassuringly, as the glow on his slaver band died off, as the room grew dim and the people were released from Pyramid's memories, Trip could see the conflict that was there. And if there was a moment where she needed Monkey the most, this was it; this was the moment where she needed to have that iron-bound will of his to move forward, that strong back to carry her through such a deplorable circumstance.

"They need you," said Monkey.

_I need you_, thought Trip.

But he was right. Currently there were thousands of people awakening from their lucid stupor - rustling, murmuring, and confused. Trip was the only one right now with the tech to speak to everyone through their slaver headbands simultaneously. A quick observation of the facility showed her that there were still remnants of energy signatures flowing through the walls as electrical currents danced between circuitry and conduits. Trip activated the holographic terminal from her wrist tech and began punching a series of translucent buttons. She walked over to the side of the central platform as she tapped away, wanting to be away from the lifeless husk of Pyramid as he bled out pungent fluid.

Trip began to explain, "The facility definitely has a back up energy source that it's using right now, and it also has a communications array. If I can power up the array through a series of isolation bridges, I can digitize an uplink with a calculated pulse that…" She stopped herself and saw Monkey perk an eyebrow.

"I should be able to talk to everybody soon through their head bands," Trip said simply.

Sometimes when Trip went into her techno-babble mode, she would get carried away. In actuality, during those intense moments on their journey, her techno-babble gave her a sense of solace because technology and programming were familiar to her. Trip felt that codes and algorithms were something rigid, solid, easily controlled and predictable. It was something Trip really wanted right now, because all the events coalescing up to this point were anything but that; the journey west was all immutable and unpredictable.

Just like how Trip didn't predict that she would be standing in front of thousands of lost souls, now desperate for a definitive answer or direction to what was going on. These people, these once enslaved, were living in their once-upon-a-times, with their dream families and dream children, going on into forever, into blissful eternity with their lives of jobs and schools as citizens. They were living the fantasy universe based on an old world constructed by Pyramid's memories that had encroached so venomously onto the new world known only as the wasteland.

As everyone's headbands crackled to signal a successful communication uplink between them and Trip, all she could think about was her father. He was a natural born leader, fearless and unwavering, taking initiative when necessary, and knowing the right things to say. It was like that time as a kid when Trip's father saved her from that wild Dog in the forest - how he showed bravery by paralyzing it with an EMP then pulling her away from it, how he showed command by ordering his scouting troops to attack and kill it. That memory resonated with her as she grew up, how she wanted to be like the leader her father was. Now she was much older, without the nurturing guidance of her father, balancing on that boundary between the helpless girl that once was to the courageous woman that she could grow to become.

"Citizens of the West," Trip blurted, her first words spilling out in a turbulent motion before she stopped herself.

She had no idea if that was even the proper way to call the once enslaved people, but it proved successful, as everybody suddenly grew silent, all attention averted to her standing figure on the central platform. Trip could feel the rising pressure of each eyes gouging her, judging her, questioning her: what just happened, why has this happened, what will be done about it, where to go, who to help, how to help, who is to blame, and on and on. There were questions upon questions circling her mind, each one needing answers for thousands of silent voices that used to have families, friends, and lives in another world. What could she possibly say? _Yes, no, I'm sorry, forgive me, it was a lie, this is reality, I don't know, maybe, help, please help me? _

Trip's knees quivered, the pressure was just too much to handle as she thought _'Oh daddy, help me, what should I say?'_

A gentle hand on her shoulder was all it took to quell the cacophony in her mind. Trip's thoughts became like still water as she gazed over and saw Monkey, reassuring her once more. Then Trip knew what to say next, because Monkey made her feel this way. It was the same feeling she felt strongly for awhile now, especially during that intimate moment with him under the twilight of the Leviathan's generator room. To her, Monkey made her feel…

"Free…" Trip said under her breath, and then raised her voice vigorously, echoing in everybody's slaver bands, "You are all free!"

"No," replied an ominous booming voice suddenly, "You are not free."

Trip faltered, taken aback as three distorted screens appeared, surrounding the central platform. Each one had a visage just like Pyramid over a console, each one wearing different masks.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Don't forget to click on the drop-down box at the top of this page for the next chapter. All comments and constructive criticisms are always welcomed. Spread the word to other Enslaved fans if you liked this story, thanks again! :)**


	2. Chapter II

Disclaimer: The author of the fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and that all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creators Ninja Theory and Namco Bandai Games.

II

Monkey stiffened, crouched low, and had his hand ready to release his staff weapon. It was a natural stance, more defensive than anything, as his body began running on adrenaline and instinct. His years of living alone in the wilds, his time spent in countless brutal battles against mechs and human scavengers, had honed his sixth sense with needle point accuracy to know when danger was coming. And this incoming danger was a giant strobe light lancing through a night sky.

At first his attention was locked onto Trip as he observed her demeanor: from growing with confidence in tandem with courage, to retreating back with surprise and terror. Then his attention was brought forth to the three screens that appeared above them.

Three figures, three masks - one white, one blue, and one yellow; their images were too distorted and full of static to see anything else with full clarity. However, the screen distortions twisted the images of what Monkey could only assume were the same tubes that Pyramid had on him, which made each masked figure look like cybernetic demons with large tendrils spiraling outward.

"You are not free," boomed the same ominous voice again, coming from the center figure with the white mask. "Blame belongs to those who fail in their duty through weakness of will."

"The memories must be observed," said the one in the blue mask.

"The memories must be preserved," said the one in the yellow mask.

Monkey was visibly confused, but also irritated and coupled with an intense vehemence mushrooming from within. His teeth gritted, his fist tightened, and a slow but firm exhale came out from him. This was another problem, or rather a continuation of it, where their meddling with Pyramid only exacerbated a situation that would lead to nowhere good. The journey west was mired with so much suffering already, and he wanted it all to stop.

The suffering echoed during the moment with Trip when she saw her father dead, which only served to resurface the memory he had of his own father's demise. And while Monkey only knew Pigsy for a short time, he had grown on him as a nuisance, to comrade, and what could be considered as his only other friend next to Trip. But he was gone too, as Pigsy's death marked another peg to Monkey's personal tapestry of pain as well as Trip's. Two moments, two perspectives, but one journey shared by two. He could deal with his own emotions, years of isolation had taught him this, but with Trip at his side she was the mirror that enhanced all his attributes for better and for worse.

It was Trip who spoke out first, which surprised Monkey. Usually he was the more outspoken one.

"Who are you?" she yelled to the three masked figures on the screen.

"The Ark has failed," proclaimed the white mask, visibly ignoring Trip's question. "This memory has been compromised. Where once there was one has now become three."

Then they spoke in a chorused unison, "The three must continue where the one could not. This memory shall be absolved and the artifact must be entombed. This is the judgment of the Magi."

Before Monkey could fully absorb what had just transpired, the entire facility suddenly jolted, causing all the people inside to jostle and cry out. Then there was another jolt as the Pyramid itself had visibly tilted off its axis. Whatever was happening, these were not caused by explosions. A groan from the walls signaled a heavy force trying to sustain some enormous pressure from the outside.

Monkey could only describe what he saw next as a metallic cobra with a diamond tipped head piercing through the Pyramid wall. And just as quickly as it came, it retreated back into the hole it created as thousands of pounds of sand from outside started pouring in. Those that happened to be under the deluge were instantly crushed from beneath. The air in the room had instantly changed to mass hysteria and panic as people began to scatter in every direction in one chaotic stampede.

"Monkey!" cried Trip with urgency.

He looked towards her direction and saw that people from below the central platform were clawing their way to higher ground via a tall pipe extension to escape the rising sand. A frantic person in an enslaved suit had grappled onto her ankles and began bringing her down, trying to use her weight as leverage to pull up. Monkey jumped towards Trip and gripped his weapon, which extended on his palms, as he batted away the frenzied assailant. This was much different from mechs, and he may have overestimated his own strength. He was not sure whether the crunching sound he heard from the connected swing was from the slaver band or that person's skull shattering. But he saw the person release their grip on Trip and fall, hitting a few people along the way who were clambering up the pipeline.

Then in one fluid motion Monkey grabbed onto Trip's extended hand and pulled her away from the edge. Monkey held her close, knowing that he had the deftness and finesse to maintain balance as the entire Pyramid tilted sharply. People began sliding off the floor and towards the opposite end where pouring sand and doom awaited them. Another groan was heard as the metallic cobra pierced a second hole into the wall. More sand poured in, more people were obliterated under a monstrous wave of yellow granules.

"What's going on?" asked Trip breathlessly.

"This place," said Monkey, "I think it's sinking!"

Another groan, a further tilt, more holes, more sand. The situation was growing grim with a hastened pace as the figures on the screen, now known as the Magi, observed the escalating genocide. There was too much static on their screens at this point, marring the image of their masks to make them look like sadistic executioners.

"C'mon let's get out of here!" cried Trip, heading to the doorway.

But the frame exploded as sand punched through the door, pouring at their direction, threatening to expunge them under their earthen filaments. Instinct kicked in yet again for Monkey as he grabbed Trip, threw her on his back, and ran to the opposite end of the platform. Just a few meters beyond he had seen a tall twisting green spire that had ascended to the highest levels of the Pyramid. Normally this jump from the platform to the green spire would have been impossible had the facility been on level. However, the sharp downward incline of the tilted building gave enough momentum to make this difficult jump.

Monkey took a step, then a hop, and made his leap. An intake of air, a breath held, the suspension of defying gravity with sand stampeding from behind. He felt Trip's grip tighten around his back as she screamed, and time seemed to slow down tremendously. The people below gaped in awe and bewilderment as the two sailed from one part of the room to another, before the flood of sand poured over the platform and crushed them relentlessly.

Monkey's hand reached out, something solid was felt, and his grip tightened like a vice. He successfully made it onto the twisting spire, swinging for a moment. Then he heaved himself to the side, getting a foothold, and reached another hand to hold onto the structure. A heart was racing though it wasn't his, but Trip's, as it pounded so fiercely it was like a fist tapping his back. Trip let out a yelp as she held on tightly. He could only imagine what was going on through her panicked mind right now.

But in situations like these, Monkey's mind felt separated from his body, as if he were a disembodied viewer watching himself, coaching himself onward. '_Climb damn you, climb!'_ He progressed with another foothold. _'C'mon, c'mon, c'mon…'_ He wrestled a hand grip up the spire. _'You can do this!' _But another intense jolt from the building slipped his next foothold as he dangled over a precipice of rising sand. _'Gah, c'mon you idiot!'_ He was his own worst critic, especially in dire circumstances.

Monkey was able to recuperate from his slip up as he fastened his grips and footholds. He paused, took a breath, then swiftly ascended upward as the sand was now an ocean that continued to rise and swell. There were barely few survivors left, desperately clinging onto the walls for dear life. But another lanced hole by the metallic cobra from outside was all it took to wipe out the remaining survivors as they were swallowed up into the merciless earth.

Monkey could see a light up above, with a cool breeze hitting his sand and sweat covered face. Knowing that the exit was nearly there, his movements became quicker, more zealous. Instead of climbing he began leaping between footholds and hand grips, his body moving like a piston – starting with a short crouch, then a bound, followed by a grapple, and then the process would repeat itself.

"How ya doin' back there?" asked Monkey casually, making another leap.

"I'm…" stammered Trip, "Fine, I think."

One last leap was all it took to reach the opening and climb out into the open world, back into the desolate embrace of the wasteland.


	3. Chapter III

Disclaimer: The author of the fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and that all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creators Ninja Theory and Namco Bandai Games.

III

When Trip slid off Monkey's back, she was glad that there was a platform outside at the top of the Pyramid, even if it was somewhat off level. She was worried that the wall's sharp incline would be difficult to traverse once exiting the facility, but the solid footing was a well needed respite for the frenzied acrobatics of Monkey. Trip exhaled, breathed a little more, and stared off into the distance. The events of what transpired inside the Pyramid had not completely sunk in yet; there was just a lot to absorb in such a short period of time, as the entire experience left her shell shocked. It took a small shake from Monkey to break her out of her catatonic revere.

"Trip, you okay?" he asked with concern in his voice.

"Yeah, sure…" Trip sighed out.

Then she remembered monstrous mech with the diamond shaped head punching through the walls, filling the Pyramid with sand from outside. Then she recalled the people, their screams, thousands of them squelched in a matter of moments. Trip faltered for a moment, leaning against the rails for support as she looked over the platform and noticed that roughly half the facility had already sunk into the earth. She paused, almost returning back into a catatonic state before a tremor jarred her back into the reality of the impending danger to come.

Trip looked back anxiously and saw, just over the apex of the Pyramid, the metal cobra. It began scaling so far into the sky its body was merely a silhouette against the sun, casting a deep shadow over them. It was a massive and dominating presence as it loomed dangerously, letting out a mechanized rattle from its diamond head.

"Trip," said Monkey cautiously as he kept his eyes locked onto the mechanical monster before them. "Remember when I said my Cloud had only room for one?"

Trip gave a small nod. "Uh-huh..."

"Time to reconsider that statement," he answered back.

The metallic cobra lashed out towards the two, but Monkey hauled Trip on his back quickly and leaped over the rails just in time for the monster to crash onto the Pyramid wall. Trip didn't know how Monkey was ever so agile, but while in mid-leap he threw down his Cloud, creating a blue energy disc that he landed on. It was the perfect timing because no sooner had Monkey started zipping down the face of the Pyramid did the metallic cobra strike out at them from beneath. It rattled, pausing for a moment before slithering down the wall at a demonic speed.

Trip never rode on the Cloud before, and she could not have imagined its velocity would be so fast. The wind rushing onto her face was so intense that her eyes began to water and her red bangs flailed wildly about. She now understood why Monkey mentioned "room for one" earlier in their journey – the speed of the device, and the balance needed to stay centered on its blue energy field could only be achieved by him. And now she was on his back as they rode together on the Cloud, experiencing a ride that was anything but enjoyable as she watched the metallic cobra gaining on them.

"Faster Monkey!" Trip shrieked as she held on tightly.

"I'm giving it all its got!" he yelled back, as he crouched lower to try and gain just a little more momentum.

The metallic cobra rattled, then lashed out, striking. Monkey veered to the side just in time as the mech crashed once more into the Pyramid wall. Then he glided to the opposite direction as the metallic cobra bashed through from beneath them, barely missing its target. Trip knew that this could not last for much longer, that they could not keep evading its attacks. The separation in speed was far too vast, and it was obvious the metal cobra had a massive advantage. They were only half way down the wall when the looming thought of their failing escape was becoming an evident reality to Trip. The intensity she was feeling at that moment, the fear gripping her almost like being choked, was just like that time as a girl when she encountered that Dog in the wilds, before her father had rescued her.

Then an idea emerged; it was from _how_ her father had rescued her that time. Trip opened her wrist tech and carefully began punching a series of holographic buttons. Even after his death, her father still had a guiding presence.

"Keep going straight!" yelled Trip as her wrist tech beeped and hummed to life.

"Are you crazy?" replied Monkey, "That mech will get us!"

"Trust me, I've got a plan!"

Trip knew Monkey would not argue any further, especially when she mentioned the word 'plan.' After all, during their journey west, she was primarily the brains of their tag-team duo. From jerry rigging her mechanical Dragonspy, to opening impossibly locked doors, and even jump starting the generator of the Leviathan, she knew what to do. But part of the journey would not have been remotely possibly without Monkey's brawn and combat expertise to pull them out of danger. They were more than just a team, they were soul linked survivors.

Now it was Trip's turn this time to save them from a perilous situation. She carefully watched the metal cobra snaking from behind and tried to predict its side-winding movements. It slithered back and forth effortlessly on the Pyramid's surface before letting out a rattle, arching its back slightly. The rattle was exactly the signal Trip was waiting for - she extended her arm tech forward and fired an EMP projectile pulse just as the cobra lunged towards them. It was a direct hit.

The mech crackled with electricity and wailed in techno agony as it lurched disjointedly, giving the two just the moment they needed to reach the bottom of the Pyramid. Trip felt Monkey make the jump to land on the sandy ground then continued to sail across the barren landscape. She continued to watch from behind and saw the metal cobra retreating, slithering back quickly up and over the Pyramid's apex, hidden from sight.

She let out a breath, one that felt like she had held for far too long. But the iota of calm was broken when Trip witnessed the metal cobra spiraling around the surface of the pyramid, coiling over and over until it was like a massive clenched fist wrenching itself around the structure. Her mouth hung slightly open with shock, because this mech was in a different league of its own amongst other machines she had witnessed previously. Its unending and almost infinite length seemed to indicate a body span much longer than the Leviathan itself by ten times over.

The Pyramid was forcefully pulled beneath the sands by the metallic cobra. It continued to wind and spin endlessly during that process, tightening its vice, never ceasing its tireless motions for a moment. As Trip and Monkey continued to glide away on the Cloud, when the sand ended and the landscape grew mottled with foliage and greenery, her vision of the Pyramid was now a dotted spec on the horizon. Then it had sunk completely into the earth, entombed forever.


	4. Chapter IV

Disclaimer: The author of the fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and that all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creators Ninja Theory and Namco Bandai Games.

IV

It had been hours since they left the desert vicinity of the Pyramid as signs of an encroaching dusk were settling in the sky. The landscape was dotted with plentiful pines and towering redwoods, coupled with the faint scent of grass and sod. Along the way, Monkey observed several plots of crumbling walls and foundations, with a mixture of plastic tubing and wood jutting out at obtuse angles. These were once homes before, similar to the one he'd seen at Trip's community, except whatever happened here had left these buildings to the mercy of time, rusting and disintegrating; most likely relics of the old world. Monkey deduced that this area was the perfect cover they needed right now to obfuscate their presence from any wandering mechs or unknown predators as they traveled on the Cloud.

Then Monkey's mind flashed to the memory of the metal cobra, which made his hair stand on edge. He thought it to be more deadly than even the scorpion mechs he faced before entering the Pyramid. It had the strength of a hundred Dogs and faster than anything he'd ever seen. He hoped that they would not have to encounter such insurmountable danger again against such a colossus, but his gut instincts had told him otherwise.

As they continued to glide through the woods, Monkey took note that by now the Cloud should have evaporated and stopped functioning, especially having gone continually for large distances. He didn't quite understand the mechanics of its activation even to this day (he could only recall Trip saying something about "…blah blah EM fields blah blah…" followed by some more technical gibberish), but he was not one to question an opportune moment such as this. So long as the Cloud kept running, Monkey only had one objective in mind – run, just run, farther the better. This is what his instincts had taught him in order to live, especially when combating powerful mechs he could not defeat: survive if you can, escape when needed, but resist if you have to and strike when necessary. And it wasn't that cobra mech that he was concerned about, but the three masked figures known as the Magi.

Monkey's instincts told him that they were different from Pyramid, who was at the very least a delusional and motivated madman who wanted to preserve his dreams of an old world. No, Monkey surmised that those Magi were something else; they were cold, pragmatic, and calculating. They were neither mad nor insane, but centered on reality with a vile and murderous intent, willing to eradicate thousands of people in an instant because of…what? Memories? Burying the Pyramid? Entombing an _'artifcat'_? What did that all even mean? Before Monkey could query the situation any further he felt Trip squeeze his shoulder.

"We have to stop," she said.

Her tone was more of a pleading suggestion than her usual order. It was a tone he was not accustomed to, since she had always given him commands ever since the start of their journey west, when they met each other after the slaver ship crashed. At first Monkey found this to be an incredible nuisance, unwilling to have full autonomy over himself due to the limitations the headband had given him. However, over time it had brought him a sense of direction for once in life, instead of being a wandering aimless beast of the wilds living only to survive from a wasteland full of murderous mechs. With Trip giving the orders and direction, Monkey was, for the first in a very long time, surviving only live.

But when the slaver headband had been deactivated after the death of Pyramid, it had severed that constant tether between him and Trip, that conjunction to him and his Raison D'etre. And just like that time Trip willfully deactivated his headband back in the Leviathan a few nights before, the idea of freedom actually terrified him

Monkey did as was asked of Trip by slowing down the Cloud to a gradual halt, and then stepping off. The blue energy dissipated until a mechanized disc remained, which magnetically flew to his hand. As he clipped the Cloud back to his belt he felt Trip slide off his back, which was a needed relief as he let out a long winding stretch followed by a grunt. True, Monkey was strong, capable of sustaining and exerting intense combat and acrobatics, but even his body had limits and he was certain that his muscles were completely fatigued. The next words Trip said afterwards was a total surprise to Monkey.

"I need to be alone for awhile," she said simply.

"Alone?" Monkey asked hesitantly, "Like, apart?"

Trip gave him an obviously masked smile, which did not help reassure Monkey's insecurities. The word 'apart' to him at this point was like the equivalent to her techno babble of EM fields: foreign and incomprehensible. Plus, with the slaver band inoperative, Monkey would not be able to monitor her vital signs in case there happened to be some sort of danger.

"I'll just be over there," Trip said as she jerked a thumb over to a dilapidated foundation with crumbling walls where a house once stood. "I'll be fine, just, please? I need some time to think…"

Monkey felt like he was at an impasse. He didn't want to let her go, but at the same merit he knew he should, because the events of the past few hours were obviously weighing heavily on Trip, both emotionally and mentally. These were both attributes that Monkey was inept at handling, since his whole foundation in tackling difficult problems were either with the blunt end of his staff or by a few well guided acrobatic swings. So all Monkey could do in this situation was to give a small nod, but the expression of concern was readily visible on his face.

"I'll be like, right here," he replied, pointing to the ground beneath his heavy boots.

"All right, thanks Monkey," Trip said as she turned and started walking towards the dilapidated foundation.

Monkey let her walk a few paces ahead before he started following her steps. But he stopped when Trip turned and shot him a stern expression. How did she know he was going to follow her?

"I also have to take care of _something_,"Trip stated firmly.

"Okay," he said, not catching on as quickly to her intimation.

Trip sighed, "It's kind of a _feminine _something…"

"Oh," said Monkey, letting it register for a moment. "Ooooh, gotcha."

He held up his hands with palms open, then took a few steps back as if to consent her release. That great divide that separated men and women was something he did not want to delve into, ever, especially the functions and particulars of the feminine attributes that was as mysterious and seemingly complex to him as Trip's techno babble. But Monkey watched her carefully as she walked off, his mind being his own worst critic just as it was earlier in the Pyramid.

'_You should have tried harder_'

Monkey kicked the ground beneath him, then he scratched the back of his head irritably. He saw Trip go around a partially collapsed brick wall, and then squat out of sight, with only the feathers from her Dragonspy headpiece visible from over the edge. Then Monkey looked away to give her the time alone, as well as the privacy needed. He shuffled in place for a moment, uncertain and weary, before sitting down on the ground with his legs crossed.

'_Did I do the right thing?'_

Was this the critic in his mind, or was this the echo to Trip's question which he never verbally answered? Then his thoughts wandered deeper to that past moment in the Pyramid – just him and her, standing together in that darkening room, with Pyramid dead, and her raising the question: _"Did I do the right thing?"_

The Enslaved Monkey, the one that was born the moment he met Trip, the one that took the journey west with her, to protect and to serve her, and the one who grew and eventually evolved to the dependant guardian and vigilant protector, thought, _'Yeah, you did right.'_

Then there was Free Monkey, the one who existed long before he met Trip. This was the part of him that was all survival, to look out for number one, himself, over anybody and anything. This was the strength born from isolation and separation, the lone wolf, the survivalist and stalking beast of the wild wasteland. To this side of Monkey, it responded and reverberated with such a naked truth to his other feelings, that it unsettled him to the point of shameful betrayal.

'_No, you were wrong.'_

Because when Monkey put on that mask, he had witnessed a living dream unlike anything he had ever seen in this hellish wasteland. It was an old world of multifaceted chroma, and vibrations, and people in a technicolor static of living and breathing, existing in the moment. He saw people with jobs, of ties and suits and percolating coffee. He saw children in schools, with books and pencils, at playgrounds of swings and kick balls, of jump ropes with chorused limericks and smiles. Of families and friends, board games and holidays, filled with seasons that blend from shaking leaves to falling snow. Each moment in the mask revealed unique and magnificent moments like precious gems, of agates, of topazes, of sapphires, of rubies and aquamarines – sparkling memory nodes with the enslaved people glimmering and shining so radiant and blind into blissful eternity.

"Beautiful," Monkey said out loud as his thoughts ran further, echoing the same words he expressed before when he gazed into the glimmering images of the mask.

But then all that beauty was stripped away in moments by Trip, who had executed Pyramid by pulling the chords from his back, ending the visions. Too soon, too soon, it was not the right thing to do, he did not want the dream to end.

Then Monkey reached under his belt sash, and carefully pulled out the object that beckoned to him so sinfully that it could only bring a sense of bliss in this broken new world. With the lowering dusk turning to night, he brought up Pyramid's mask against the sky, its outline illuminating softly with a whispering dark running across its contours and hidden depths.

'_Go on, go on. Put on the mask.'_


	5. Chapter V

Disclaimer: The author of the fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and that all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creators Ninja Theory and Namco Bandai Games.

V

As Trip sat crouched behind the wall separating her from Monkey, all she could think about was that she had obviously lied. There was no '_feminine _something' she had to do, Trip just had to lie in order to get some needed space for herself. She didn't like lying to him, in fact it made her throat clench having to fabricate something so absurdly fictional; it just was not in her nature to do so, especially having been so close to Monkey who had been her companion both physically and emotionally since the start of their journey west. It was only now that she had the opportunity to be by herself for the first time, now that his slaver headband was deactivated. Part of Trip felt that she needed time to process, be in her own bubble universe, away from the danger and suffering, away from the massacre and slaughter of thousands of people in the Pyramid, her father's death, as well as Pigsy's.

But at that same merit, isolating herself only brought her blindingly close and intimate to those painful events and experiences, each moment coalescing in her mind to form an infallible truth of the wasteland – life here is hell, life here is all suffering. As she sat crouched behind the brick wall with her arms desperately hugging her knees, she felt her eyes starting to tear. But Trip bit her lip to the point of almost puncturing the skin, and that was all it took to stop her from pouring out right there.

'_No, not here,'_ Trip thought to herself.

She did not want Monkey to be alarmed, to have him come over, put a hand on her shoulder, tell her that it will all be okay. But then she imagined seeing that look again in his eyes, that one she saw at the Pyramid when she asked him _'Did I do the right thing?'_ It was disconcerting to see a possible truth in him that was suspect and transparent to her, completely ephemeral. In her mind, it was an untold truth leading to many different roads: disappointment, betrayal, disdain, condescension, and so on until the paths became jumbled in her mind like bogus computer data. If only Monkey was a piece of code, something she could easily decrypt, but even the enigma that was his feelings were quite possibly more difficult than any sort of program. And decoding him might lead to an ardent confrontation about her decisive action in the Pyramid that Trip was just not yet ready for.

More importantly, Trip had her own feelings to take care of, first and foremost. Ever since they escaped from the Pyramid, she felt a bubbling intensity inside of her that had been waiting to surge forward. She couldn't put a name to it, nor completely identify what it was. All that she knew was that this was connected to the deaths of the people around her, both close to her and by association.

She placed her Dragonspy on a broken sill, making sure its wings would stick out just enough so Monkey could see, and continue the deception she was hardly fond of. Trip scoffed at herself, partly out of shame, but also at the irony of applying her diversionary skills to fool the one man she could trust. Afterwards, she quietly snuck away, crouching low in order to hide her presence in the veil of a darkening evening. Trip's movements were automatic, almost mech like to say the least, sulking and predatory. The nameless, bubbling intensity had been so magnified inside of Trip that it was divorced from her as a separate entity, guiding her, pulling her into the unknown as the grassy ground turned into broken asphalt.

Her hand reached down unconsciously to the ground to pick up what she recognized as a PVC pipe, the same material her own village was constructed with. Then Trip continued to be pulled so deeply by this nameless, bubbling intensity that she hadn't realized how far away she had gone. The area Trip was in had been still, no sound was heard, except for her breathing, displaced in this seemingly serene area of tilted slides, chained swings with no seats, and broken benches around a dilapidated fountain; it was a place that had once been a community area, a park perhaps – a ghostly reflection of a past life that seemed heavenly, and of peace.

However, Trip was also surrounded by towering redwoods that sliced through the cement, succumbed to the mercy of nature. And these trees were so tall that their peaks could touch the starry sky. Plus the moon tonight was iridescent, only bright enough that she could vaguely glance at objects hanging haphazardly on the surface of the broken fountain. Her arm lifted, automatic and seamless, as her holographic wrist interface appeared. Trip punched a series of buttons to active a shrill beam of light.

They were posters, all around the fountain. But these were not the same ones she and Monkey saw at the start of their journey; these were not ambiguous people who had gone missing during the era of the old world. Rather, these were posters that reflected the grim side of that history, one that made her briefly shiver.

Mechs, all mechs, photographs of machines in a line, marching with arms rising sharply towards the heavens. In another picture she saw flags of unknown origin emblazoned their backgrounds, mechs standing at attention, saluting diligently. In another she saw another mech, decorated with medals, illuminated from behind, gun arm raised and belting out bullets. So many posters, dozens all around, each one some type of archaic propaganda, each one the pride of some extinct civilization. And at the header of each picture was inscribed with three bold letters in front of a faded insignia that made her hand tighten around the pipe she wielded.

WAR – with the faded insignia resembling the masks of the Magi behind it.

Trip's arm wielding the PVC pipe thrusted forward and smashed one poster on the side of the fountain. She allowed the pipe to scrape downward to tear off the paper before she slammed her weapon again onto another poster. Trip ripped it off, and repeated again on another, and another, again and again. Her movements grew in speed, erratic and frenzied. Each strike slashing off paper, fluttering into the air, the contact of pipe and hard fountain surface resounding loudly in the night, but not as loud as her hysterical shrieks. The feeling, the bubbling intensity she felt, exploded out as she finally understood its multiplicity: fury, rage, anger, hate, destruction, vengeance – and so much more, uncountable and intoxicating in their explosive presence.

She had been so blinded by her feelings that she had begun thrusting repeatedly in a single spot of the fountain, boring a hole, imagining their faces, the masks of the Magi, with a pipe lodged obtusely through their skulls. Trip didn't quite understand who or what the Magi were. All that she could piece for now was that they were most certainly the origin of their suffering, _her_ suffering.

In one mighty heave, Trip let out another frightening scream, and threw the pipe at the fountain, rebounding off the hard surface and into the darkness. Trip was exasperated and repined, it just was not supposed to be like this, with life disjointed and disarrayed. Her life before was isolated and protected in the wind community, with everyone together, her father, friends, all people she identified as family. At that time in her life, Trip was content, but most importantly, she had felt complete. Now it was no more. She thought bitterly to herself, _'Gone, it's gone. And it's just mechs now, always mechs…'_

Trip finally buckled, leaning forward with a hand on the fountain before sliding down, hopeless and defeated, rained down by a shower of cascading paper. Each one that fell was a sting to her psyche, the blow that reminded her of the cruelty in life, and the powerlessness to stop the eradicating force that accompanied it. But she didn't cry, there were no tears to shed, but rather a clenched fist that slammed onto the fountain surface. This action was the unspoken resolution she made to herself, the urge to fight, guided by the fire that burned inside of her being, purifying in all its intensity, consuming her.

Then she felt strong, familiar hands cupping her clenched fist. Trip was not surprised to see Monkey was there, since she had just created a lot superfluous noise with her boisterous, fervent activity. As she looked at his hands enveloping her fist, she felt the fire inside her quell, controlled. She looked up to Monkey, and saw in his eyes, despite the presence of that unspoken nature between them, the familiarity and empathy under all that brutishness and muscle. He understood, he always understood, the fire in her was very much attuned to his own fire – twin beacons that blazed intensely and intimately in the darkened reality of the wasteland. And she was reminded once again that she was not alone in this forsaken world.

"We're going to finish this," Trip said with determination.

Monkey simply nodded in agreement. "All the way to the end."


End file.
